


Cover The Pain, The Want, & The Hurt.

by Thementalistlover2013



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: But More Plot, Damon Can Wait, Damon Loves Stefan, Damons A Good Big Brother, Had To Update Tags, Help, Hero Stefan, I Don't Know Why I Capitalize Tags, It Doesn't Mean That He Wants To, It Gets Freaky, Little Brother Stefan, M/M, Oblivious Stefan, Pining, Self-Hatred, So Wrong It's Right, Unrequited Love, patience - Freeform, plot and porn, vampcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-03-26 19:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3862159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thementalistlover2013/pseuds/Thementalistlover2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Damon is a pining older brother who's been in love with Stefan since the beginning and Stefan has no clue. Damon can wait though, because he can't do that to Stefan. Damon evaluates himself and his decisions, all while hating absolutely everything. *Written for a bingo card - Patience.* Set in season 5, where Elena is in college and the brothers are home alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, first published TVD fan fiction. It's a simple one-shot, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. It's mostly Damon's feelings - which a lot of stories tend to leave out - because I believe (even if Stefan is my favorite, because yes) that the eldest brother deserves some mushy gushy (one hour) writing too. I left the end pretty open because I like people to make up their own stories sometimes (it's not because I'm writing more of it). Implied incest that happens (or doesn't) depending upon however you want to interpret the ending.

~*~

Damon sipped at his tumbler, swirling amber liquid around and sighing as the burn hit his throat. He sat in a chair next to Stefan's bed, where the teen in question had been sleeping for the past few hours, restlessly tossing and turning. Damon had to calm him down quite a bit, shushing him with a muttered 'Piccolo' and a gentle hand across his pale forehead. Just like old times, eh?

And that was the sick thing about it. Damon treated his brother in many ways, having been involved with the vampire differently then most. The fact that Damon thought of Stefan as more than a friend or a little brother or even a _damned_ enemy sickened him. He clutched his tumbler tight, eyes glassy as he looked over Stefan's curled form, tracing the lines of his cheek bones, down to the curves of his shoulders and onto his bony clavicle. Damon could lick his way inbetween those rock hard abs, delving into the path that he would surely go to hell for just by thinking about it.

So he attempted not to. He tried to treat Stefan with a more paternal manner, ruffling his hair and making sure he'd had enough bunny blood in the freezer. It was hard and it brought back the fond yet distant memories of their childhood, where Damon had led Stefan by the hand, showing him the new world and teaching him everything that their father decided to ignore or leave abandoned. Damon could do it though, he'd much rather have the urge to kiss Stefan's cheek then hold him against a wall and _suck the breath_ from him.

To fight his urge he watched Stefan, always reminding himself that Stefan was his _little_ brother, a seventeen year old teenager. He himself was a grown man, and it'd be illegal with their age difference anyway, nevermind the incest (or vampirism). If a law was in place it _must_ be wrong, right?

Well, sometimes Damon thought that the best way to feel alive was by breaking the rules of society - a society of which he'd watched grow and fall many times overtime. It was wrong and so _so_ manupulating, because Damon knew that even if they were far past the age of their childhood mentally, Stefan wouldn't look at him in disgust - not completley - and might even allow the relationship. But Damon wouldn't ( _couldn't_ ) do that, and he had to remind himself of that every single time he saw Stefan blush or gnaw on his lip _or_ even breathe _, dammit_. Because everything was too much, too intense with the vampire's heightened senses; and Stefan was too good for him, and always would be.

Damon wouldn't be the one to corrupt Stefan. No, even though they'd lived for over a century each, Stefan would always be the do-gooder, the hero, the thoughtful one. It was engraved into the kid's soul, the fact that he must do good, no matter the effect it had on himself. It was aggravating and worrysome but Damon had figured out the only way to stop his self-sacrificing tendencies was to ignore them, save Stefan's ass when he _eventually_ got into trouble, or use a sick form of reverse psychology. Because whatever Damon had to offer must be the wrong way to go about it and Stefan would ultimately do the opposite.

Still, Damon couldn't help but stare. Looking wouldn't hurt, but it seldom helped his urges to wrap Stefan in his arms and love him hard. This would be the downfall of the eldest vampire too, Stefan's obliviousness to his entire attraction and devotion. The morning after he'd watched Stefan sleep they'd both been in the living room, Stefan writing and Damon drinking. The kid had the nerve to scratch his little pen against his diary, probably writing about Elena _or_ Caroline _or_ anyone but his big brother. It had Damon heated, and he didn't think clearly when he jumped from the living room recliner to pin Stefan against a wall.

"Damon!" Stefan exclaimed, looking over him like he'd gone crazy, and he probably had. Damon's blue eyes widened and he let the hand around Stefan's neck fall to his side. The younger boy rubbed his neck, grimacing worriedly. "What _the_ hell? Are you okay?" _No_. Damon nodded, sighing casually. "Yeah Stef. Just, stop with the writing poem boy. You're driving me insane with all those scratches."

Stefan just swallowed, cocking his head and nodding, green eyes calculating. Damon could've kissed him there, while he was all flush and confused and adorable. "Uh yeah. Fine. Whatever..." Damon went to turn away but Stefan grabbed him by the arm, holding him with a light grasp and cold hands.

"Are you? You know, sure you're okay? You seem a bit tense." Damon bit back a groan, nodding with a pretty smirk of his lips. _Cover it up, **cover it all up** ; the hurt and want and devotion and pain._

"Yeah, I'm fine Stef. Just trying to think is all, we've got other things to worry about with vampire Elena off at college. You can write...I'm fine. Just overreacted. I'll go in another room if it's _too_ annoying." Damon muttered offhandedly, sitting back down and sipping a glass of blood. Stefan perched in his chair, writing distractedly in his little diary. Damon slurped another bit of blood before looking at his younger brother with worry.

"Have you had anythi-"

"Yes Damon." Stefan replied amused, drawing out the words and acting like a kid around his age would. Damon smiled tightly. "I did. Thanks for restocking the fridge by the way." Stefan said politely, looking over his full pages with a little glimmer of accomplishment and long-rooted sadness. Damon hoped his emotions didn't shine through his own eyes like that. It'd be too revealing.

But then again, if Stefan knew what he wanted, it wouldn't be that difficult would it? They could be happy, leave Mystic Falls, get a nice little cabin in the middle of the woods somewhere. Forget the Originals and Elena _and_ everyone who ever got in their way. They could be happy.

As always, Damon swallowed down the urge and sighed, pouring a little more amber liquid into his glass, watching the leftover blood swirl with the alcohol. It's not like he didn't have an eternity to wait, and his burbon would be here with him to make it a little more tolerable.

So he would. He'd wait until Stefan got the hint, he'd wait until eventually all of his sexual tension would explode and he'd end up pouncing atop Stefan like he'd always wanted to; licking and biting a pathway of want throughout the years, showing him just how special he was, and just how _long_ Damon had wanted him.

~*~

 


	2. Clueless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guilt ate at him, and with Damon's sudden quirkiness, it was causing internal turmoil. He could barely sleep anymore, and when he could, all he could see was Damon, drinking blood, being undeniably disgusting with his actions; all because of Stefan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, long story short, I forgot about the promise I made to some of my reviewers who had asked for more. I was going through my stories today, and realized I never wrote Stefan's POV. I whipped this thing up in less than two hours, so I hope you enjoy it. Sorry for the wait!

~*~

Stefan was worried.

Damon had been a little off lately, like he was one edge, waiting for the other foot to drop; problem was, Stefan didn't know what said foot would bring.

It was awkward, with little to no information and an angst ridden older brother? Well, he'd started having nightmares. _What if Damon's dying? What if he knows something about Elena? What if he's planning to leave town, once and for all?_

The possibilities were endless, but all of them ended horribly (for Stefan at least, who held onto his older brother's presence like a life line). Either way, Damon was sneaky, and he could leave, he could do _anything_ , because Stefan had no control over the man. Their relationship didn't warrant that anymore. Not after they'd been slowly drifting apart since the beginning of their immortal lives. Not after Stefan so _helpfully_ forced (or persuaded) his brother into becoming a monster, something that could barely die, something that drank from life.

The guilt ate at him, and with Damon's sudden quirkiness, it was causing internal turmoil. He could barely sleep anymore, and when he could, all he could see was Damon, drinking blood, being undeniably disgusting with his actions; _all_ because of Stefan.

The few times Stefan had had pleasant dreams, his brother had been looking over him, patting his head, combing fingers through his hair. It was an occurrence that had only happened in the eighteen hundreds, when Stefan had been a scared little boy, wincing in pain from his father's belt, or missing a mom he never had met. Damon surely wouldn't do that now though, not after they'd almost become enemies, practically completely estranged and distant.

It was difficult to say the least. Stefan wanted to connect with Damon like Elena had, because they definitely hadn't spoken _seriously_ in forever. The youngest brother was jealous even, not over losing Elena to Damon, no, he _lost Damon_ to Elena, and that may have been the worst thing he'd ever gone through. Yet, he could tell no one of this, in fear of criticizing looks or pitied glances towards the _neglected little brother._

Damon was okay, sure. He could carry on a conversation about a hot chick he scoped out over at The Grill, _Stef, you could totally get that with your big broody eyes and heart felt words, chicks dig it._ Stefan would simply wave him off, because that wasn't what he wanted. No, Stefan wanted Damon to love him like he loved his women, with big blue eyes and a mile wide smirk. Too bad Damon didn't even know he was _into_ men, never less _into his big brother_.

But Damon had tried, Stefan supposed. The eldest would constantly mess with Stefan, ruffling his hair, making sure he'd eaten, that he'd gotten sleep, or that he'd ventured out of the house once and a while. The youngest didn't know if that was the old Damon peeking through or if he just felt guilty for ripping Elena away. Either way, Stefan would take what he could get, sometimes _purposely_ brooding to get Damon to look at him, aqua eyes laced with concern.

Stefan had been writing in his diaries one of these times, speaking of a 'girl' named 'Dee'. In all reality, 'Dee' was obviously Damon. Luckily the oldest hadn't read into it, or he hadn't even been _interested_ , because Stefan had been writing about Damon with pseudo names since the beginning of time.

He would tweak the stories, but overall, his words spoke of the completely unadulterated love he'd felt for his brother; whether it be brotherly or _something else_ , something dark and sinister. Stefan had been writing an entry in one day, sitting right across from an ignorant Damon. The youngest had been emotional, frustration peaking at an all time high. He must've been scratching a little too forcefully because a second later Damon had him against the wall, just like he'd dreamed.

"Damon!" Stefan had shouted, looking over his deranged brother with hidden thirst and admiration _(Damon was really strong, so much so that he may have had Stefan's feet hovering above the floor)._ "What _the_ hell? Are you okay?"

Stefan searched his brother's face for any sign of distrust but could find none. That didn't necessarily mean anything, Damon was a good liar, the best one, and that terrified and impressed Stefan all at once. The youngest rubbed at his neck as Damon let him land on the ground. "Yeah Stef. Just, stop with the writing, poem boy. You're driving me insane with all those scratches." Damon muttered tersely, looking over Stefan's bruised neck with a sorrowful face. Stefan cocked his head in honest confusion, studying Damon like a lab experiment. He nodded once, a small affirmation that _yeah, okay, I'll let that drop just like you let me drop._

"Uh yeah. Fine. Whatever..." It wasn't his most intelligent response but it was the first thing that came to mind. Stefan continued to stare as Damon went to turn away. Stefan went out on an impulse, grabbing Damon's arm, dislodging his swift dismissal. The youngest lowered his voice, worry and anxiety bleeding through.

"Are you? You know, sure you're okay? You seem a bit tense." Stefan noted, watching Damon smirk. The oldest held up his act, but he probably knew Stefan could see through it, at least a layer of it; Damon was like a _damned_ onion, and Stefan was attempting to peel it back with a broken toothpick.

"Yeah, I'm fine Stef. Just trying to think is all, we've got other things to worry about with vampire Elena off at college. You can write...I'm fine. Just overreacted. I'll go in another room if it's too annoying." Damon finished lamely, as if it was nothing but a thing, _holding your brother by the throat suddenly and then apologizing in the next minute_ ; Stefan supposed it wasn't _that_ weird, because, hello, he was a Salvatore. Weird shit always seems to happen. But the event did warrant a talk, a conversation that would probably never happen of course because Stefan wasn't Elena.  
Stefan shook it off, picking up his book and perching back into his chair. He'd think it over, try to figure out Damon's real motive for going _completely_ batshit.

"Have you had anythi-"

Of course Damon was as bipolar as a damned strobe light, one second dark, the next light. Stefan was used to this, because ever since they were little, the eldest Salvatore always had a short fuse, moods that could change in milliseconds. "Yes Damon." Stefan replied, a small smile in place, at least something's were normal. "I did. Thanks for restocking the fridge by the way." The green eyed teen nodded once, grateful for his enigma of a brother. He continued to write, documenting the recent situation with a few changes so it wouldn't be identical.

Damon poured more alcohol, probably thinking of Elena as he stared off, daydreaming. Stefan stared at him from the corner of his eye, wishing and hoping that one day, he'd be the star in Damon's sky.

Stefan didn't know the half of it.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment/Review & Kudo!


	3. Drunken Adventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon dumps Elena, causing a celebration within the Salvatore house. Celebrations begin with alcohol and end with something entirely different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly intended this one shot to be just that, a one shot. But since I've gotten commenters that seem to enjoy this little fic, I've continued it, surprising myself honestly. Either way, I thank all of my reviewers/kudo-ers/subscribers. This is for youuu.   
> P.S. I was worried about this specific chapter because it had a lot of dialogue compared to the other two. I love both styles - the more verbal stories and the ones with little to no words - but I usually have an equal amount. This is also kind of cracky, sooo. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

~*~

  
"And then I told her to go find herself a _normal_ man, a human preferably." Damon muttered, surprisingly _somewhat_ sober and smiling all at once. Stefan grinned, bright and enthusiastic. He slapped his brother's shoulder drunkenly, sipping at a bottle of Jack.

"Well. I'm sorry we both lucked out. But, she _was_ an ignoble wretch, always going back and forth between us. I'm just glad you're back Day." Stefan stated, green eyes glowing in accordance to the flames in the fireplace, whites of his eyes bloodshot and glassy. Damon laughed messily, a raspy sound that hadn't been heard in a long time. Stefan relished in it.

"You mean a bitch. She's a _bitch_ Stefan. It's the twenty first century, and if we're going to move-" Damon froze in place, once comfortable posture now stiff and full of tension. Stefan paused mid laugh, swallowing his humor and cocking a surprised brow.

" _Oh_." He said softly, voice light and shaky, suddenly feeling less drunk. Damon hit himself in the head once, palm against glabella, frustrated at his own mishap.

"Damnit. _Damnit._ How could I've. _Ugh_." Damon yanked at his hair, standing and pouring himself some more bourbon. The liquid burned its way through his body, making the raven haired man feel a little bit better about his mistake, as it always did. Damon sat back down unsteadily. "I didn't mean to tell you. It was a surprise and-"

"It's great Damon. Really." Stefan assured him, genuine happiness within his emerald eyes. Damon shot him a hesitant smile, his real smile, the one reserved for those that knew him back in the beginning; when he was less coarse and egomaniacal.

"Now that you know," Damon drawled, swirling his drink around in thought. "I figure I might as well tell you what I've been planning."

"Wait. You actually _thought_ about something?" Stefan stated in surprise, smirk high. The youngest brother took another healthy swig, following another, and another; waiting for Damon to pinch him or worse. Damon glared at him, smacking Stefan's arm with his human-diet-vampire-strength. The youngest brother winced, rubbing his bicep with a very manly pout.

"I _did_ asswipe. I got a place lined up in sunny Seattle. Me and you, you and I, hitting the Big Apple and all that jazz." Damon slurred out, nudging Stefan's shoulder.

Stefan burped, throwing his head back and laughing. He slapped his stomach, seemingly finding hilarity in his own gastrointestinal system. "I'm. I'm pretty sure the Big Apple is New York, Day. But, but good job." Stefan lifted his thumb upwards like a hitchhiker, smile wide and goofy. The oldest brother laughed, shaking his head.

"We shoul' probably stop drinking now. So I can actually drive when we leave." Damon explained slowly, seemingly hesitant towards the notion that _yeah, Stefan was agreeing to go live across the country with him_. The green eyed teen nodded, head almost dropping to his chest and staying put. Damon laughed, nudging him once more.

"Let's getchu to bed little brother." Damon suggested, his body seeming to process the alcohol easily ( _what a surprise_ ). Stefan rolled his eyes, waving him off limply.

"Nah. I'm on top of the Big Apple Damon. See." Stefan mumbled, eye lids droopy. The oldest brother gave a slight affirmation before lifting the muscular teen up bridal style. Stefan drooled onto his shoulder.

"Whoo." Stefan exclaimed in a monotone rasp, attempting to latch onto his brother's neck. Damon walked up the stairs, wobbling all the way. He left the glass bottles of alcohol on the floor, the lights on, and the radio blaring. All that mattered in Damon's drunken mind was getting Stefan to bed.

"Here." Damon finally announced, flipping on the light and moving towards Stefan's too big bed. He deposited his little brother down with an 'oomph'. Stefan merely reached out into the air, making drunken grabby hands. Damon laughed, tilting unsteadily.

"Day. Come're." Stefan whispered into the air, eyes barely open.

"What Stef?" Damon replied exasperatedly, rolling his eyes like he had somewhere to be.

"Come're. Gotta, gotta tell you a secret.'' Stefan drawled out in annoyance, sounding petulant and childish. It tugged on Damon's inebriated heart strings.

"'M here." The raven haired man assured, practically laying on Stefan's face.

"I, I never ever told you. But I like boys. Like, _like like_." Stefan giggled, covering his mouth sheepishly. "Don't tell Damon. Don't tell no one."

"I gotchu man." Damon slapped Stefan's chest, smile wide. Stefan pulled him into a hug, curling into the body heat.

"Come lay down with me Day. 'M cold." Stefan shuddered, face flush from the alcohol. Damon laughed but obliged, slipping in behind Stefan. The oldest brother wrapped his hands around Stefan's thin waist, feeling the elastic of his boxers, as that was the only thing he had on. Damon had his normal jean and t-shirt combo, and couldn't even remember how Stefan had ended up in his boxers three hours ago. Damon nuzzled into his little brother, happy he could feel smooth skin against his lips; not really caring how they'd gotten to this point.

"Now I gotta tell _you_ somethin'." Damon whispered into Stefan's ear, voice gravelly. Stefan smiled.

"'M listenin'." Stefan assured, scooting further and further into Damon's chest. The oldest brother grinned.

"You're a vampire. 'S why you're cold." Stefan seemed genuinely surprised by this news, shaking his head in denial.

"Unbelievable."

"I know right."

With that the duo fell asleep, Stefan almost naked and wrapped in Damon's arms, and Damon fully clothed and encased around his younger brother. Neither of them knew the effect it would have on their relationship, and for now, neither of them cared, content to lay drunkenly together.

 

~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read! Comment/review & Kudo! Tell me if you want more, I'll see what I can whip up!


	4. Don't Hate, Reciprocate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I broke up with Elena.'
> 
> 'Damon, I'm cold.'
> 
> 'I like like boys.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never wrote chapters at this rate, but considering this is a WIP, I suppose that's normal? I don't even know, but I'm enjoying it, so here:

~*~

  
Damon awoke to a gentle tickling in his nose. The raven haired man kept his eyes closed, slowly detailing where exactly he'd ended up, and who exactly he was with (a trick he'd picked up from being an immortal alcoholic, you tended to wake up in some _freaky_ places with some _freaky_ people). But something about the hair in his nose and the light beating onto his eyelids had him questioning things; it was _really_ familiar.

He smelt in the room around him to waste time, because in all reality, he kind of knew who we was holding; he could recognize those hipbones, the scent of cucumber body wash, along with a musk only one person he knew could hold. Damon catalogued his surroundings instead, determining he was on a bed with cheap sheets, in a dusty room filled with Mahogany furniture. A window was near, because he could feel rays of light on the back of his eyelids. The entire room smelt like an old library, and the person under him had the same scent, although it was hard to pinpoint; the body he was clutching smelt like ink and paper and the whiskey _Stefan_ was drinking last night.

Finally, Damon took a calming breath, feeling the hairs - _Stefan's_ hairs - recede from his nostril and then come back; the intoxicating smell of Stefan filled his senses with each inhale, and although he was hesitant to face this nightmare, he could admit that he'd like to bathe in this moment - no matter how wrong - for however long he could. It felt right, but his conscious, the thing he worked so hard to ignore, was screaming at him. _Let him go! You're his big brother!_

So Damon did.

The vampire bolted upright, zapping across the room like a werewolf was chomping at his heels. Stefan must've chugged less than Damon had thought, as his hangover didn't permit the older brother any leeway. Stefan awoke just as Damon pushed him away.

"Hmh?" The green eyed teen mumbled, sitting up and glancing around, hair disheveled, body flush. He looked so young, too young to even be thinking about sleeping with someone, neverless his own brother. Damon shivered, mind travelling back to their childhood.

_"Day! Lookie what I found!" Nine year old Stefan exclaimed, running towards his big brother from behind the garden's hedges. Damon sighed in exasperation, acting all of seventeen as he kissed a girl's cheek in polite dismissal before moving towards his little brother._

_"Stef! Don't run, you'll fall!" Damon hollered, watching as the green eyed boy slowed down, cocking his head in confusion. He looked much younger than nine, and once again, Damon felt bad for ever raising his voice towards the kid; but he had a travelers daughter at the home, and Stefan yelling and screaming wouldn't make her want to stay._

_Madeline, the girl Damon was to court, did the unexpected, walking towards Damon and interlacing their elbows. She smiled towards Stefan, a sweet little grin that caused the youngest Salvatore to blush fiercely. Damon let her arm go as she bent down, undoubtedly getting dirt on her nice, salmon dress._

_"Now," She looked towards Stefan, noticing a tiny purple flower in his pudgy hands. "Why were you just running, Mr. Salvatore?" Madeline asked, grey eyes stark against her blonde hair. Stefan looked down at his feet, holding his hands out, a partly crushed Violet in his grimy palm. Madeline, to Damon's delight, took it without hesitation, tucking it behind her ear with grace._

_"Why, Mr. Salvatore. This is a very beautiful flower." Madeline complimented, her smile small and amused. Stefan shuffled his feet, meeting her eyes, green to grey._

_"I saw the flower and thought of you, Ms. Madeline." Stefan mumbled softly, smiling shyly. Damon sent him a wink, a gesture of approval, a thanks even. Stefan merely nodded towards his big brother, looking up at the tall teen with a palpable admiration, flush never ceasing._

It was the same now. In the present, Stefan admired him, no matter his short comings. Damon stood in the corner of his bedroom, straightening his wrinkled clothes as his younger brother looked at him groggily; Damon didn't feel like he was anything akin to admirable, an abomination might be the better term.

"Damon?" Stefan mumbled, pulling the blankets off and frowning towards his unclothed status. He simply stood, walking wearily and unsteadily towards his older brother, confusion plain across his face. "What happened?"

The raven haired man simply shook his head, _act oblivious, act oblivious_. "I'm not sure." Damon lied, looking out the window to avoid those emerald eyes, the same ones that could read his mind if need be.

"Oh. Well, what're you doing in here?" Stefan asked softly, moving towards his dresser and pulling out a large t-shirt. He threw it on, just to feel a little more clothed, he was always very modest. Damon kept quiet, honest regret flooding his aqua bulbs as he turned towards Stefan's expectant glance.

"I don't know. We probably just got smashed. Nothin' big." Damon muttered hurriedly, moving towards the door. "I'll go grab some Thumper. You look a little sickly." Damon stated teasingly, even though he was the one who had the knots crawling up his throat. Stefan merely nodded his thanks, running a shaky hand through light brown hair; hair that Damon had been sniffing purposely a few minutes ago.

Stefan managed to make his way down the steps, going towards the living room, rubbing at his eyes. He let his hands drop as he spotted the mess they'd left, memories rushing back.

_'I broke up with Elena.'_

_'Damon, I'm cold.'_

_'I like like boys.'_

Stefan's world seemed to tilt off axis, and he had to grip onto an armchair to keep steady. Suddenly, strong arms were wrapped around him, holding him up, moving him to a seat. Damon's cool blue eyes met his own and he shook his head in denial. _This_ didn't happen.

"Drink. Breathe." Damon ordered, big brother face in place. A blood bag nozzle was lifted to his mouth and he drank slowly, taking breaths in between, feeling as if he had a racing heart, even though he knew he was dead. Damon rubbed at his scalp, squeezing the blood into his mouth, calming him down like he always had. Stefan opened eyes he hadn't realized were closed, looking into Damon's bulbs with hesitance.

"Do you remember?" The raven haired man asked, looking subdued and disappointed. Stefan, never one to purposely lie to his big brother, nodded slowly. Damon inhaled once, running a hand over his face.

Okay...So what happens now?" Damon asked, searching for Stefan's answer within his gaze. The emerald eyed teen shrugged, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

"I didn't _hate_ it." He admitted softly, vulnerable and open. Damon smile rose unconsciously, his eyes brightening a little.

"Me neither."

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment/Review, Kudo, and Subscribe! Thanks!


	5. Perfection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That was." Stefan breathed out, letting Damon wrap both of them up in the blankets, eyes droopy.
> 
> "Perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a few weeks in, and they end up getting freaky; like super freaky. Don't read if you don't like Smut, or gay sex, or anything relating to the vampcest I so HELPFULLY had tagged as a relationship from the beginning. For those of you who continue, its about to get hot. Sorry not sorry. *screams and hides in cave*

~*~

  
Two little words had changed their entire lives.

Weeks later they hadn't been as awkward as Damon had expected, they'd moved on with _whatever_ they were, slowly easing into the very thing Damon had wanted the minute Stefan turned fifteen. It was quiet, mostly evolving from gentle touches to something more, something better.

Stefan took it all in stride, and even though they didn't outright proclaim it, they showed their love and affection; Stefan letting Damon sleep in, Damon hunting for Stefan, both of them compromising on whether or not they were going to watch _Nova_ or _Nascar_. Don't forget the heavy make-out sessions, or the shared showers.

That's where they were now, Stefan laying in bed, nothing but a pair of boxers on as he watched his science program. Damon was massaging his back, straddling his hips, rubbing callous knuckles into knotted muscles. The youngest vampire was practically limp, letting Damon take charge like the man always liked; he was _such_ a control freak. But it wasn't like Stefan didn't like that.

"Right there." Stefan mumbled, groaning in pleasure. Damon smirked.

"I wouldn't make that noise unless you want something other than a back rub." Damon threatened lightly, clicking his tongue. Stefan laughed, turning in Damon's grasp. He looked up at Damon, eyes shining brightly, smile shy.

"Maybe I do."

The words left Stefan's tongue before he could stop them. He blushed brightly, watching as Damon cocked a brow; whether it was judgmental or playful, Stefan didn't know.

"Why do you get so flustered Stef? Don't you trust me?" Damon growled, moving closer and closer to Stefan's face. The black haired man bent down, licking at Stefan's neck, feeling the tendons there go tight. Stefan nodded weakly.

"Yes. I do." Stefan confirmed, slowly bucking up into Damon as the man bit his ear lobe, sucking a pathway down into his collar bone; just like Damon had dreamed. Stefan hesitantly moved, as this was the first time they'd done anything like this. He reciprocated timidly, holding onto Damon's strong shoulders, nuzzling into his body.

"Good. We're going to need that." Damon mumbled, moving for Stefan's mouth. He encased the younger teen's lips in his own, slowly prodding his tongue near, asking for entrance like a gentleman. Stefan allowed him in, their tongues dancing around each other, body's swaying together. Both men broke for air, Stefan flush and beautiful underneath him.

"So pretty." Damon muttered appreciatively, looking over Stefan's abdomen and licking his lips. The green eyed teen grabbed onto Damon's thighs impatiently, both men rock hard.

"Come on." Stefan whispered, letting Damon play with the elastic of his boxers. The younger vampire shivered, goose bumps rising on pale skin. Damon could count every one of them.

"Slow." Damon reminded, Stefan's voice replaying in his mind, _'let's take it slow Damon, I don't want to rush anything, we've got forever'_. The younger vampire nodded his apology, hands reaching downwards. Damon stopped him mid way, pulling Stefan's hand away from his boxers and holding both limbs above his head.

"I'll take care of that." Damon promised huskily, telling Stefan with his eyes, _Don't move_. The brown haired teen watched with anticipation as Damon peeled off his clothes, taking his shirt and tying it around Stefan's wrist's. Luckily, both of them had spent the entire day in bed, barely eating; Stefan was weak, and probably wouldn't rip the shirt that _easily_ (especially with Damon's threatening gaze pinned onto him).

Stefan writhed on the bed as Damon stroked himself, teasing the younger vampire with a smirk. Stefan mewled, eyes never straying from Damon's cock. His own boxers were tented, his want palpable.

"Come're." Damon muttered, biting at the elastic on Stefan's hip, nipping at the skin there. Stefan bucked up once more, another fruitless attempt to touch Damon. The raven haired man shook his head, gently pulling the navy boxers from Stefan's waist with his teeth, hands lifting Stefan's legs up. The younger vampire's feet ended up on Damon's shoulder's, his legs shaky, his breaths identical.

"You're beautiful Stef." Damon assured, looking over a quiet Stefan. He began his ministrations, grabbing lube off his side table and slicking his fingers. "You okay?" Damon asked, looking down at Stefan. The teen nodded, sighing anxiously.

"I've never." Stefan mumbled, looking nervous. Damon's eyes were wide and surprised.

"Really?"

"Wanted it to be you." Stefan admitted timidly, intertwined fingers tapping with unease. Damon kissed him once on the lips, trailing fingers up and down his legs.

"That's amazing..." Damon stated, slowing down the process of preparing Stefan. He poked in a finger, slowly inching in his knuckles, one, two, and finally three. Stefan was the tightest he'd ever seen. "Tell me if you need to stop." Damon pleaded softly, getting a slight nod from a tense Stefan. He pushed a little bit more.

Eventually, Damon had gotten three full fingers into the youngest vampire, all while Stefan shook vigorously on the bed, hands white knuckled.

"Please." Stefan whimpered, dick hard and throbbing. Damon smirked, lining up his entrance and slowly pushing in. He started to move, in and out and back again. Stefan was breathing in time with his thrusts, being pushed further and further into the blankets, toes curling above Damon's shoulders. Stefan's eyes never left Damon's, green to blue, like a manic sea.

"Day." Stefan groaned, tense and sweaty. Damon slowed down, afraid he'd hurt Stefan. The brown haired teen simply shook his head. " _More_."

That gave Damon the affirmation he needed. The oldest brother may be perceived as a coarse man, but in all reality, he loved gently, smoothly, like a fine wine. He would've never pushed harder if Stefan hadn't of asked for it.

Thank God he did, because a few thrusts in and both men were coming, Stefan onto his stomach, and Damon inside of him. The youngest vampire's moan had Damon smirking in accomplishment. He gently pulled out, brushing a few stray hairs out of his brother's face. Stefan barely moved, seemingly content to lay motionless. Damon pulled the half shredded shirt from Stefan's wrists, wiping them both off.

"That was." Stefan breathed out, letting Damon wrap both of them up in the blankets, eyes droopy.

" _Perfect_."

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment/Review & Kudo & Subscribe! Thanks bunches! xD


	6. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flames were pretty bright after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo. I'm really excited about this story, 'cause its my new child. Thanks for all the comments/review, subscriptions, and kudos! Keep 'em coming! Btw, this chapter isn't dirty (I'm sorry, trust me, this will happen again), but more of a moving on type of thing. So go read it. Thanks!

~*~

Damon had been able to move on without a second glance.

Damon managed to seal the deal on the Seattle house, give the Salvatore home to Mystic Fall's Historical Society (who'd been _itching_ for it since the beginning of time), and order a U-Haul for the cross country trip. It'd been easy with all of the twenty first century technology, no more horse and buggy, no more lanterns. The oldest brother was excited, and that was rare.

It'd been Stefan who'd had the most trouble.

He'd lingered in his bedroom for a while, flipping through his diaries, gazing over the pictures he'd had from the previous high school year with Elena, Caroline, Matt, Bonnie, Jeremy, and Tyler. Damon would watch from the ground as Stefan's pacing form created shadows on the windows.

That's what had him upstairs. Damon had walked into Stefan's room with hesitance, ready for whatever emotional down pour was to come. He perched on Stefan's bed, the same one he caught Elena and Stefan in far too many times. It brought back too many memories of jealousy and want. He'd wished that'd been him with Stefan all those times.

But that was the past, and now, he was the one who held Stefan at night, who made love to him as the sun rose, who watched him study away because he _wanted_ to ( _who_ in their right mind did _that_ anyway). Yeah, that was Damon, the one who'd been with him from the literal beginning, and he wasn't some flaky teenage girl who couldn't make up her damn mind; Damon was sure, he wanted _nothing_ but Stefan.

He just wasn't sure if Stefan felt the same way.

"You okay?" Damon mumbled softly, standing from the bed and wrapping his biceps around Stefan's body, head on his shoulder. Stefan melted into the hold, closing his eyes and nodding.

"Yeah. It's just. You know, difficult." Stefan whispered, rubbing a hand down his face, the other clasped in Damon's. The youngest brother turned in his grasp, standing forehead to forehead with Damon. Stefan's emerald bulbs were sad and glossy, like he'd had the urge to cry for so long his eyes had kept a constant film of moisture, ready to burst at any moment.

"I get it. You need time?" Damon assured gently, kissing Stefan's nose with a feather light touch. Stefan shook his head in defiance.

"No. I just want to get out. Feel like I'm _frozen_." Stefan admitted, voice cracking, a tear spilling out. Damon wiped it away, big blue eyes understanding; Stefan was the only one who got to see this side of him.

"It's a good thing I'm pretty hot." Damon muttered slyly, causing Stefan to laugh wetly, his smile weak and frail but _present_ ; that was the only thing that mattered, Stefan's well being, their life as a couple. It was the only thing on Damon's mind, as it had always been.

"You're an idiot." Stefan laughed, hitting his shoulder. Damon smirked, shrugging, all cocky and assured even though that was the furthest from what he was. He'd just roll with the punches though, because he was tough enough to.

"I'm _your_ idiot though." Damon said, smiling cheekily. Stefan nodded, nuzzling into his shoulder, breathing in leather, expensive cologne, and spicy after shave. Damon ran a hand through his hair, quietly comforting.

"This is it huh?" Stefan mumbled, breath hot against Damon's neck. The older brother nodded, jacket crinkling under Stefan's grip.

"Only if you want it to be." Damon reminded, giving Stefan a way out, an end to all of this reminiscing. Luckily, Stefan shook his head, ending Damon's long rooted doubts.

"Of course not." Stefan pulled away, gathering his courage, standing straighter. His hands still twisted within each other, a nervous habit of sorts. "I'm ready. Lets do it." Stefan stated confidently, taking a shelf of his diaries and pictures off and dropping them into the large trash bin he'd been piling up. He gathered the rest, Damon watching with concern. The rest of the house was cleaned out of their personal belongings, the only thing left being a few antique pieces of furniture; this would be it, the last bind to their old lives.

"There." Stefan sighed, looking at his life, all one hundred something years of it, piled into a single bin. Damon clapped his shoulders, a good job gesture, before handing Stefan a match book. Stefan ran his thumb over it, finally taking a single match, striking it, and throwing it into the bin. His diaries caught fire within seconds, his words and memories rising upward with the smoke, hopefully finding a better place to reside; hopefully being laid to rest, forever engraved in the world no doubt, but then again, an example of a brighter future.

The flames _were_ pretty bright after all.

  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
The duo was gone then, Damon leading Stefan out of their home, both of them getting into Damon's Chevy Camaro, the top folded down. The older brother sped off, a hand on the wheel and another on Stefan's thigh, squeezing gently, a promise.

The U-Haul bounced along to the local top forty station, Stefan's hair wild and disheveled across his face. The two drove for a while, through the sunshine, then the moonlight. When it started to rain Stefan simply grinned, arms outstretched, sunlight peeking through the clouds, spotlighting on his body.

Damon glanced at him from the side of his sunglasses, smile bright and unwavering, kind of like their future.

And the oldest brother didn't mind that the interior of his beloved car was getting wet, or that Stefan's left hand was pressed against his chest, where his beating heart should be; because it was beautiful, fitting even, like the universe had finally allowed the Salvatore's a piece of happiness.

It didn't matter that Damon couldn't see past the rain drops, because Stefan's illuminating smile would guide them home.

~*~

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment/Review (because it's my favorite thing in the entire universe), Subscribe, and Kudo! Thanks lovelies!


	7. Romantic Gestures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd forever be a romantic if Stefan kept looking at him like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late (that's not really true, because I'm winging this whole WIP thing so it's not a scheduled uploading) update, but I've been super busy! I'm hoping to end this fic in the next chapter or so, thanks for reading! Warning: smut ahead.

~*~

They made it in around three a.m.

Both men were tired, but their enthusiasm had kept them awake, so much so that Stefan had barely even shown his exhaustion; he had only seen pictures of the place, and was excited to see the loft, the place where they'd start over.

Damon was adamant on carrying Stefan through the threshold bridal style, something about good luck. Stefan thought it was romantic and stupid and something Damon would inevitably pull so he allowed it (only after Damon threatened to lock him out unless Stefan got into his arms right that _damn_ minute).

Stefan was immediatly swept off his feet and forced into the home, Damon speeding through it and into the bedroom within seconds. Stefan was thrown onto the bed with grace, scrambling upwards to gain his bearings. Damon was smirking, obviously up to something as the room had rose petals and silk sheets done up beautifully. He lit a few candles, the smell of lilac invading Stefan's heightened senses. The light's were dimmed, creating a luminescent glow around the room.

The room was done up in a maroon and gold color scheme fit for a king. The heavy curtains were closed, the large television off and shiny. The bed underneath Stefan was a California King, with a heavy comforter laid atop it, designed with tiny little vine like lines, a web of sorts.

It was as complicated as they were, an interwoven mass of feelings and struggles. Stefan couldn't think of better imagery.

"Stop _it_." Damon ordered, pointing a finger at his boyfriend with the wandering eyes. "Stop thinking and looking. Just relax."

Stefan laid backwards then, nodding an affirmative, swallowing hard. He was nervous, mind buzzing even though he tried to squish the inner ramblings of his head. Damon quickly averted his attention though, crawling up to him on the bed, donned in _nothing_ but his leather jacket.

Stefan's breath caught in his throat as Damon pawing at his shoes, gently pulling his tennis off, peeling off his socks, rubbing both feet down. Damon pulled at Stefan's pants next, yanking hard enough his belt came loose, leaving rivets on the younger brother's skin.

" _Whoa_." Stefan mumbled intelligently, cool air hitting his cramped legs. Damon kissed and nipped up both appendages, taking turns on each one. The older brother finally reached his destination, biting once more at Stefan's boxers, the green eyed teen growing warm, cheeks flushed. Damon smirked all the more.

The raven haired man pulled off Stefan's boxers, Stefan shivering as the cool air hit the parts of his body only Damon got to see. The older vampire sucked his way up Stefan's pale thigh, lovingly massaging knots out of his muscles from the car ride here. Stefan moaned, enamored with Damon, staring into his eyes, gazes permanently locked.

"Love you Stef." Damon grunted, leather jacket crinkling as he helped Stefan pull of his shirt. The teen nodded seriously, if a little dazed; Damon never did this, the verbal terms of endearments, he'd much rather show Stefan.

"Love you too Damon." Stefan breathed out, pupils dialated with attraction.

That was all Damon needed, wrapping big hands around Stefan's biceps, kissing him hard, dicks pressed together. Stefan had both hands on his shoulder blades, the bones and muscles in Damon's back shifting together with every move, Stefan's fingernails scratching at leather. Stefan could hear Damon's every inhale, using his inhanced senses to dive futher into this little scene, putting all of himself into it.

Their bodies molded like wet clay, sliding and grinding, sweat and precum and salivia lubricating eachothers skin, soaking them to the bone. Damon had Stefan pinned possesively, kissing his lips, biting his ears, leaving marks on every square inch. Wild blue eyes broadcasted emotions that Damon only held in certain situations (all of which involved Stefan). The younger brother was hypnotized, bodies practically moving on their own accord, _a primal love_.

"Stef." Damon grunted, a warning of sorts. Stefan nodded, gnawing on his lip, body still pinned to the bed. "'M close."

Stefan pressed a little harder against his brother, both of them climaxing in a loud symphony of gutteral moans; more than a little animalistic

Damon simply collapsed atop his brother, breathing heavily. Stefan joined their hands, laughing softly, kissing the top of Damon's knuckles. "Thank you." He breathed.

Damon cocked a pointed brow, gathering up the strength to trap Stefan with his forearms, supporting his body above the teen's. "For what?"

Stefan gestured around, to the house, to them, his smile small. "For this. It's amazing. Just like I've imagined." Stefan assured, running a hand down his face, grin goofy. "Maybe you could show me the rest?" The teen proposed, brow furrowed out of habit; Damon sighed amused, he was probably thinking about color schemes again.

"Yeah. You're gonna love it." Damon reassured, smirk a mile wide. Stefan laughed, nodding.

"You would know."

 

\------

  
They ventured into the rest of the house after Damon managed to get a wet rag. They cleaned up, repacing their underclothes, since both men were positive their nudeness wouldn't make very good impressions on the neighbors (unless they were _into_ that sort of thing).

Stefan walked around the house, barefeet padding along the wood floors, his elbow interlaced with Damon's. The hallway from their bedroom led to the kitchen, a warm room with orange and oak tints, relating to earthy undertones. Damon had the fridge stocked with a few drinks and some of the guilty pleasures they'd learned to love during their long lives (iced coffee, a select assortion of fruit, and expensive cheese). The kitchen was open, the house practically a loft from that point forward. The dining area was held the same level of beauty, and almost reminded Stefan of a farmhouse, with fancy little decour and rugs. It was homey and sweet, Stefan smiled.

It looked as though Damon had taken a piece of every house they'd ever lived in and binded their styles together, creating a home with only the best of traits. Stefan's dead heart pounded, his smile bright and unwavering.

"This is incredible Day." Stefan muttered, looking at him impressively. Damon shrugged, brushing it off even though his smirk had a trace of cockiness within it.

"What can I say? I'm a romantic." Damon kissed Stefan's cheek once, flush rising as he pulled away.

He'd _forever_ be a romantic if Stefan kept looking at him like _that_.

~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review/Comment, Kudo, and Subscribe! Thanks lovelies!


	8. Unbreakable Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concrete cracks, but I do not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end! Thanks to all the readers who gave feedback! Here's a somewhat longer chapter!

~*~

Years later they remained the same.

Sure, it was lonely, with both men having no need to work or go to school; they had everything they wanted and needed, there was _no_ need to get greedy.

But as the couple grew older, they'd realized one simple thing; they _only_ needed each other.

Both of them had people attempt to befriend them, or older companions such as Elena and the rest of the Mystic Fall's gang fruitlessly try to reconnect or 'check up on'. It was the same ol' same ol'. Stefan and Damon would both reply with a 'no thanks' or a click to the 'ignore' button.

They had spent so long attempting to have a simple, serene life together. Now that they had it, neither would risk it for the world.

It was 2025 when they decided to let someone else in. Both Damon and he frequented a little bar down the street. One of the bartenders, a young woman named Amy, would chat with them about miscellaneous things, backing off when the couple seemed to want space and being cordial at all times; that didn't mean she wasn't a spitfire though, and that's what had the duo so intrigued.

"So. This gay sex thing. How does that work?" Amy asked, her grin wide and bright as she poured Damon a glass of bourbon. Stefan warmed dramatically, hiding his chuckles as he pillowed his head on his arms. Amy bumped him with his Dr.Pepper, the condensation chilling Stefan's arm. Damon smirked.

"The gay sex thing has _many_ parts. What'dya wanna know?" Damon asked, nudging Stefan playfully. The green eyed teen shook his head, raising it hesitantly. He was still blushing, but it had faded in comparison.

"What happens? Like," Amy thought for a moment, dusting her hands off on her apron. "Who takes the lead? Who-"

"One question at a time Boomer." Damon stated, eyes alit with a boyish excitement. Stefan groaned, brooding forehead in play.

" _Why_ does this happen to _me_?" He moaned jokingly into his forearms, head pillowed there once more. Amy twirled on her heel, shrugging innocently as brunette locks flew around her slim frame.

"Okay." Damon started off, licking his lips. "So Stefan likes it when-"

That night was the beginning of their friendship, other wise known as the _lets-embarrass-the-hell-out-of-Stefan-club_. Every week night ended at the _Swollen Canoe Bar and Grill_ , and the mornings usually began with Damon slapping Stefan with a large pillow. It was routine, going and talking to Amy about gay stuff, her weirdo little brother, or Global Warming. No matter the topic, both men were entertained by her; it was the first outside enjoyment they'd had, which meant a lot considering their ten year abstinence from all of humanity.

It was just another Tuesday night when the couple walked in, Stefan trailing after Damon. They sat at their normal stools, peeking around the bar, looking for the young girl; she might've been dealing with some food or alcohol stock. She always showed eventually, but both men were beginning to worry as time passed.

That's when Damon went into the back, brow cocked as he peered around the chaotic storage room. Boxes were everywhere, and bile rose in his throat as he smelt the pungent scent of copper; fresh human blood, something he hadn't had in a decade.

But he recognized the aroma that surrounded it too, the sweet smell of coffee and sunflowers; also known as Amy. That's what had his mind reeling, and he dug through the cardboard, surely panicking. Stefan came in from the bar, brow furrowed and worried as he glanced over the setting; Damon on his hands and knees, digging through trash and debris.

Stefan looked unsettled as his nose detected just what Damon's had, "Amy." He murmured softly, a single word holding gallons of dread. Damon stood, sniffing around, letting his nose lead him into the next room; the smell was stronger here, and he didn't want to know what was behind that door. He had a clue, and he didn't want Stefan to see what exactly had happened to their dear friend.

"Amy!" Stefan hollered, shoving through the door, frown permanent and concerned. Damon nearly head butted into his brother as he raced after him, attempting to stop his lover.  
It was too late, they were too late.

Amy, _beautiful Amy_. The young woman was splayed on the ground, arms forming a halo around her brown hair. Her apron was wrinkled around her body, something the knit-picking woman would've never allowed if she'd been able to see it. Blue eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling, pupils dead and unfocused. Her mouth was closed, but a look of fear clouded her features, as if she'd been terrified, frozen in place, kind of like Stefan and Damon. Blood pooled around her midsection, onto the cheap linoleum tile, turning the dingy yellow flower print into a crimson puddle. A shoe was off, her big toe broken as if she'd kicked someone in her fight for survival; five foot Amy, _always_ a brawler.

Stefan collapsed to his knees, mouth agape in horror; Amy deserved none of this, she earned the right to a good life. Yet she'd been murdered in the place she loved the most, a few walls away from a group of oblivious patrons. Stefan gagged, swallowing down his sob as he grabbed her hand; it was cold. There was no saving her, not now, not ever. They couldn't mess with the supernatural side of things if they wanted to stay invisible.

Damon wrapped sturdy hands around Stefan's shoulders, supporting himself upwards, knees shaking dramatically. Stefan heaved in a breath, green eyes closing in dismissal; a sign of giving up.

"Why?" Stefan merely muttered, whisper gravelly and desperate. "Why does everything we _touch_?" His voice broke, muting the teen as he squeezed her hand once more, letting it rest above her head, perfectly symmetrical with the other appendage; _a perfect halo for a perfect angel._

"Com'on Stef." Damon sniffled, standing strongly, helping a crumpled Stefan up. "Let's go." Damon muttered, voice a weak comparison to the usually charming tone. Stefan nodded, the next person to find her would call it in, they just couldn't risk it.

They walked the two blocks to their home in silence, Stefan shuffling his feet, Damon gripping his elbow, a strong support for the younger man. Street lights casted their shadows along the broken sidewalk, erosion from the rain creating cracks in the otherwise perfect slate of concrete. It was a great analogy for the two men, who after years had been broken down by the hell and trauma rained upon them; both had their cracks, and inevitably, they would break, going even farther than the Ripper or Damon's ruthless carefree personality.

Instead, the two dragged their way back home, content to mend back in a safe place.

Stefan laid his head back on a cold cotton pillow, cheeks sticky from tears, eyes blood shot and red. Damon wrapped around him, a gentle cradle of arms, eyes vacant and misty. The room was silent, the house pitch black, the muted hum of their refrigerator the only noise excluding their breaths. 

Their hands met, identical metallic rings sliding next to each other, not a promise of a safe passage in the sunlight, but a joining of hearts; _a marriage_.

One thing was for sure, no matter the trials put against them, their bond would _not_ crack.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was kind of depressing, at least I thought so, but I wanted to solidify the fact that no matter their destination, in the end they'd only have each other. Which was the entire point of this fic. So I'm going to go cry alone in the corner *scurries away* Comment/Review & Kudo! Thanks to all of you!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Like it? Love it? Go do that thing where you press kudos and that handy dandy comment button!


End file.
